


Childhood Days

by MedieavalBeabe



Series: Cliched Titles For Your Relationship With Peter Maximoff [10]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Baking, Cupcakes, Family Fluff, Fun, Gen, Peter Being An Overprotective Father, Star Wars - Freeform, Telling Stories, ice lollies, mutations, sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 01:24:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20201452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MedieavalBeabe/pseuds/MedieavalBeabe
Summary: You and Peter spend a fun Saturday with your children.





	Childhood Days

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here it is, the final fanfic in this series. I'm feeling a little sad that it's over to be honest, but on the other hand when I first started this series I never thought I'd write nine sequels to Opposites Attract. I'm only stopping now because I think this has gone as far as it can go and I thought this would be a fun fluffy way to end it, if a little shorter than the other fics in the series; and after all the angst I've thrown into past fics in this series, I wanted it to wrap up with a happy ending. Thanks to everyone who's stuck with this and enjoyed reading it.
> 
> (Also, if anyone's wondering about the term "ice lollies" that's basically what we in the UK call "popsicles," but I can't bring myself to write that word down.)

“Jeanie Raven Maximoff, get down from there!”

You daughter just giggles and lowers herself lightly down to the ground, above which she’d just been levitating not far over your heads. Just to the right of her, her brother Dashiell looks up from his perch in the tree, also showing off his powers.

“That’s not as cool as this, Jeanie!” he calls, making a stray twig bloom into life with thick green leaves again. With a cocky grin just like his fathers, Dashiell springs backwards off his branch and dangles there, using both arms to swing like a monkey.

“Dash, be careful!”

You threw up your arm to stop Peter rushing over to pull your son down from the tree altogether, as you know he’s probably about to do. “Peter, they’re just having fun,” you insist, gently. “Let them.”

Peter glances at you, warily. “How come I’m the only one worrying here?”

“Because you used to be pretty reckless yourself at their age,” you laugh, tucking your arm through his.

Peter frowns, playfully, although he’s unable to stop his grin. “You didn’t know me when I was their age.”

“Your mother told me,” you reply.

Dashiell lets go of the branch and in a blink Peter’s there, grabbing him before he hits the ground. “Da-ad!” Dashiell grumbles, pouting.

You have to giggle, because he looks so much like Peter when he’s trying to get you to forgive him for something, it’s unbelievable. Jeanie can do the same, which is one of the few ways people can tell they’re twins. If it wasn’t for their hair, no one would guess they were even related, really, they ended up with a combination of yours and Peter’s, starting with your colouring in their roots and changing to silver halfway down. People think that you two have dyed your children’s hair for them rather than assume it’s just natural. At first, you’d thought they were going to grow out the silver but it seems this is it now, they’re always going to have yours _and_ Peter’s colouring for the rest of their lives.

“You could have hurt yourself,” Peter scolds, setting him down again.

“Peter, you’re being over-protective,” you say, walking over to them. Dashiell is still pouting, you note. “Your son knew what he was doing.”

Peter smiles and ruffles his son’s hair. “Go on, play with your sister.” Brightening, Dashiell rushes off again and you both watch him run over to Jeanie to show her how his Mutation can make trampled flowers stand up straight again. “Maybe you’re right,” Peter agrees. “I just don’t want anything to happen to them.”

Your heart warms slightly. All this time you’d always thought that if you and Peter ever had children, you’d be the protective, responsible one and Peter would be the reckless one letting them get up to all sorts of mischief. Well, you suppose, this is true, but what’s surprised you is that Peter doesn’t overdo it, he knows where to stop and lately has been acting a lot more responsibly, perhaps too responsibly, than usual.

Jeanie and Dashiell had only discovered their Mutations last year and that was when you’d both come clean and told them about being X-Men and all the missions you’d been on in the past, explaining to them that their powers were something to be embraced and not feared. Jeanie had developed the power of levitation and continually shows off with twirling and leaping in the air at heights children of her age shouldn’t be able to reach, whilst Dashiell has earth powers that he used to make tree branches dance and vines come shooting up out of the ground at will, just to make people jump. They love playing around with their powers, and whilst you’re happy for them to experiment in discovering and exploring their Mutations, Peter keeps worrying about them.

“Look, nothing’s going to happen to them,” you say, snuggling up to him again. “They’re on safe ground and you’re here to catch them if they fall, like you just did. And Hank’s only about ten feet away in his office, so if they do get hurt, he can fix it. Really, Peter, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Mummy! Dad!” You both look over to see Jeanie beckoning you excitedly and even though they’re not that far away, Peter picks you up and speeds the pair of you over to where they’re sitting by one of the school flower beds.

“Look what I can do!” Dashiell exclaims, poking one of the dying roses that’s bending over its bed, it’s once pink petals now a dark beige colour, crisp and dry. At your son’s touch, however, it immediately straightens up and regains its colour, looking freshly planted again.

Your eyes widen as Peter laughs in amazement. “Whoa, Dash, that’s amazing!”

“That really is,” you smile, and then glance at Jeanie who’s now making a daisy chain. “And yours is amazing too, Jeanie.”

“I know.” Satisfied, Jeanie tosses her daisy chain up in the air and it floats and spins as you all watch in awe. “Cool, I can make other things fly too!”

You bite back a laugh at how like Peter she sounds too. Yet, they’re like you too, in so many ways. When they first started school, i.e. started the kindergarten at the Jean Grey School for Gifted Youngsters that you and Storm had helped set up two years ago, run by two responsible, reliable and kind Mutants – Delphine, a Mutant with X-Ray vision and Simon, a Mutant with psychic abilities – to accommodate Mutant children who discovered their powers at an early age, as well as their parents, most of whom lived nearby, both of your children had been very shy about mixing with children their own age and kept to themselves mainly, just like you had in school. Now, though, they’re becoming more confident, like Peter, and making friends much more easily.

Something splashes on your cheek, suddenly, and you all look up as it starts to rain. “Oh, no,” you sigh.

“Nooo!” Jeanie shakes her head, her hair glinting silver and _(Y/H/C) _against the raindrops. “I hate the rain!”

“Come on, let’s get inside!” You give a yelp of surprise as the world turns upside down for a second before the next thing you know all three of you are standing back inside the mansion. Or rather, Peter is standing holding you over one shoulder with Dashiell under one arm and Jeanie under the other.

“Peter!” You protest, clambering down and straightening your dress. “That’s so undignified!”

Your children giggle as Peter sets them back on their feet. “What? It’s the only way I could get all three of you inside at the same time.”

“Mummy?” Jeanie tugs at your dress to get your attention. “Can we make cupcakes? If we’re not playing outside now?”

“Please?” Dashiell adds, giving you the puppy eyes.

You smile. “Go on, then.” Then, as they race towards the kitchen, you hold up your hand, not looking at Peter, because you already know how he’s looking at you right now. “And _you _can stop with the pleading look too, you’re as bad as they are.”

“Can I help it if my wife’s a great baker?” Peter kisses your cheek and then rushes off into the kitchen. You follow in time to see him picking up the twins and setting them on the table. “Now, where did Mommy put the recipe? Can you see it anywhere?”

You lean against the door frame, watching the three of them with a smile. Back when you and Peter had first started dating, you’d never really been able to picture him as a parent, only ever seeing the cocky seventeen year old kleptomaniac whom you’d had to cover for on several occasions, whom you’d had to lie to the police for and whose thoughts had only ever consisted of eating Twinkies, speeding around for the hell of it and dating you. But it was clear to anyone in the school, even those who were new, that Peter loved being a father. You suspected deep down that he’d still had nerves about it when you told him you were pregnant, despite his delight, but those had dissipated once he had finally had a talk with Erik.

That had been at your urging. It had, after all, been almost ten years since Apocalypse had almost destroyed the Earth, at that point, and you’d gently approached the subject, your argument being that it wasn’t fair to not tell Erik that he was about to be a grandfather. Surprisingly, Peter had agreed, although you knew deep down he was terrified about broaching the subject. After all, Erik was still nursing the hurt that had come with losing his family in Poland, and neither of you knew how he was going to react to suddenly discovering he had another child, a son he didn’t know existed before.

It had been Storm who’d gone with him in the end, since by that stage you were experiencing very bad morning sickness, and flying in the X-Jet only made it worse. Hank had gone too, of course, leaving you to hold down the fort at the school for the day, but Scott and Kurt were there to help you, so it wasn’t too bad. In the end though, Storm had told you that she didn’t really need to be there for moral support because it went pretty well. Of course, Peter didn’t tell you every detail but you knew it went something like this:

_As they approached the former head of the School for Gifted Youngsters and his old friend slash sometimes enemy, Peter hung back, slightly, bracing himself. He was honestly expecting Erik to reject him, to brush off his claims and not want to know, yet deep down a small part of him hoped he was wrong. _

_“Hello!” Charles sounded surprised but in no way displeased as he spotted them. Erik turned in their direction with a warm smile. “What brings you here?” He frowned, playfully. “Don’t tell me you’ve burned down the school?”_

_“You really don’t have much faith in me, then?” Hank joked back. _

_Peter stepped up, hands tucked in the pockets of his jacket. “I’ve got something to tell you...both of you.” He took a deep breath. “(Y/N)’s pregnant.”_

_“And it’s twins!” Storm threw in, looking like she was biting back a squeal of delight. _

_“Well, that’s wonderful!” Charles laughed. _

_“Congratulations,” Erik smiled, nodding. _

_“Yeah, we’re very excited,” Peter agreed, fixing his eyes on his father. “And we thought it wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t know.”_

_Charles luckily either knew what Peter meant or else he was just good at taking a hint. At any rate, he tactfully made an excuse for himself, Hank and Storm to leave for a minute, and Peter slid into the spare seat. There was a chess board set up on the table, and Peter wondered briefly which of them was winning. _

_“So, what are your plans?” Erik asked, watching him carefully. “Have you decided where they’re going to go to school or..?”_

_“Actually, (Y/N) and Storm want to open up a kindergarten at the school,” Peter admitted. “So, we’ll probably send them there, you know, just in case their powers develop early or something.”_

_“Good idea,” Erik agreed. They both fell silent, which usually Peter would find maddening but in this case it was useful because he had no idea how to bring up what he really wanted to say. Luckily, Erik got there first. “But I get the sense you didn’t come all the way out here just to tell us that.”_

_Peter looked away. “Well, I kind of did. I mean, (Y/N) said you should know you’re going to be a grandfather.”_

_Erik nodded, again. “I had kind of wondered about that.” Peter looked back at him. “Since the Apocalypse thing...afterwards I did wonder what it was you couldn’t bring yourself to say when I asked you why you were there. And then I remembered what you did say. You were there for your family.” He shrugged. “It all...fitted.”_

_“I’m sorry,” Peter mumbled. “I guess I thought you weren’t ready to hear it then.”_

_“Well, I’m glad.” Erik pushed the chess board to one side, careful not to upset any of the pieces. “I mean...I’ve watched you fight. You’re pretty good.” Peter smiled. “What I’m trying to say is...I’m proud of you.” He fixed Peter with an intent look. “You haven’t let me down, if that’s what you’re worried about.”_

_Peter smiled. “Well, I wasn’t exactly the best behaved teenager. I was in the trouble all the time. But I’m better because of (Y/N).”_

_Erik nodded again. “You picked a good one there...son. Hold onto her.” He smiled. “So, when are they due?”_

_“Start of the summer.”_

_“Well, I’d like to see them then.”_

_Peter reached into his jacket and pulled out the photograph. “Well, we thought you’d like to see this.” He pushed it across the table, and Erik picked it up, seeing it was a copy of your latest sonogram. “We’re having one of each.”_

_Erik grinned, suddenly looking like his son for the first time. “They’ve got your eyes.”_

_And both men laughed, finally bonding for the first time since knowing one another. _

Now the twins are five and Erik has become a regular to the mansion just to see them. Of course you’d told Magda that Peter had finally told him, and they’re still yet to meet again, but you’re expecting fireworks when that happened! (And not just because of Jubilee!) Magda can’t come to visit as often as she wants to, but you go to visit her, something the twins adore, especially because she’s kept “Dad’s Super-Cool Basement” exactly the same since he had left it, and they love the opportunity to play Pac-Man. Although when they expressed the desire to bring the game back to the mansion so they could play it all the time, Peter had surprised you by lovingly but firmly telling them that if that happened, they’d be distracted from all the important things in life, like school. Of course they had groaned a little at that but then Peter had reminded them “Your mother’s one of the smartest people I know and that’s why she’s one of the best superheroes,” which had sold the whole “School is cool” thing to them.

“Mummy, come on!” You snap back to the present, seeing everything to make cupcakes with is already laid out on the table, and both your children and your husband are looking at you expectantly.

You smile and shrug off your jacket. “Alright, give me the recipe then.”

Leaving the oven handling to Peter, you put Jeanie and Dashiell in charge of weighing out the ingredients whilst you mix them together, swatting Peter’s hand every time you catch him trying to sneak a taste. Once they’re in the oven, the four of you work on making the frosting, and the twins choose the decorations they want, which include a lot of silver ball bearings, of course, since “Silver’s Dad’s colour!”

“So, what’s my colour?” you query, looking up from the frosting.

Peter thinks for a second. “Blue.”

“Blue?”

“Yeah, light blue, like ice.”

You smile. “Of course.”

In the end, it turns out you’ve all made more cupcakes than you four can eat, so the twins decide to save the rest for the other X-Men, and they have fun decorating them accordingly – of course Kurt and Hank both get only blue sprinkles. Dashiell decorates his with edible flowers, because of his Mutation he states, and Jeanie chooses jelly sweets for hers, just because she likes them so much. You pick one of the ones with the ball bearings to keep Peter company and the four of you sit on the table to eat them.

“I love Saturdays!” Jeanie declares, throwing her arms around your waist.

You laugh and hug her back.

“We should do this every Saturday!” Dashiell adds, with his mouth full.

Peter looks like he’s about to agree, but on a look from you he changes tack. “Hey, what have we always told you two about healthy eating?”

Though, Peter’s one to talk about that, you note, just like he’s one to tell the students to slow down in the corridors when he’s the Mutant with super speed. Still, you suppose it’s good he’s at least attempting to sound responsible in that respect.

You finish up the rest of your Saturday with a Star Wars marathon, pausing to have dinner after _Empire Strikes Back,_ with Peter arguing that it would be quicker if you let him do it and you responding that no one wanted burned dinner (his culinary skills still leave a lot to be desired) and your children giggling over their parents’ playful bickering. By the time _Return of the Jedi _ends, they’re both yawning, the sun’s setting and Peter offers to put them to bed whilst you tidy and wash up. By the time you’ve dried the last plate, you’re certain that Peter will have them both tucked up and on the verge of sleep, but this isn’t quite what you find when you poke your head around their open bedroom door.

“Did it hurt?” Jeanie asks, her little eyes wide with wonder.

“You bet it did,” Peter grins. He’s sprawled on Jeanie’s bed whilst both Jeanie and Scott are sitting up with their legs crossed, one either side of him, already in their pyjamas, listening to his story. And all of them are holding, and eating, ice lollies. “I thought I was done for. But then this great ice ball comes out of nowhere and smacks Apocalypse right on the back of the head. I’ve never seen your Mom look so angry in my life.” The twins giggle. “Of course, it didn’t knock him out, but it did get him to drop Auntie Raven and distract him long enough for Uncle Kurt and Uncle Hank to come and rescue us.”

Clearing your throat, you make your presence known, causing all three of them to look up at you. “Peter, is this seriously your idea of putting our kids to bed?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Peter asks, innocently.

“Ice cream before bed? They’re going to be up all night now.”

“No, we won’t,” Dashiell insists.

“They’re the ones we made yesterday,” Peter explains. “Just fruit and water, no sugar.”

You sit on the bed, trying to remain firm but with a husband like yours that’s never easy. “Well, did you at least save one for me?” There’s a whiff of air and then Peter’s dangling one right under your nose, making your kids giggle again. You finally smile and take it. “Peter, you’re a bad influence, you know?”

“Why’d you marry me then?” Peter grins, kissing you quickly before resuming his spot on the bed.

“Go on, Daddy, finish the story,” Jeanie insists, tugging at him.

“Well, Granddad and Uncle Charles rebuilt the mansion together, and Auntie Storm decided to join the X-Men with us,” Peter finishes up. “And that was how Mommy and I became part of the greatest team of superheroes in the world.”

“But you’re not now.” Scott pouts. “I mean, you don’t go on missions much now, not like it used to be.”

“We have a family to look after.” You reach over and pull him into your lap for a hug. “And people aren’t so anti-Mutant now as they were back then.”

“Who knows, though?” Peter adds, finishing up his icy treat. “One day, the world might call for the X-Men again, and they’ll want Charles Xavier leading us into battle.”

“Hopefully not for a very long time,” you finish, not wanting to scare your children with dreams about their parents being killed in battle. “And now it’s time you two were in bed for real.”

“Aw...”

“No, I mean it, come on.”

They both spring off the bed but Peter grabs Dashiell before he can get in his own. “Dashiell Scott, you are not going to be without brushing your teeth, young man!”

“Da-ad!” Dashiell groans but in vain as Peter carries him into the bathroom. A second later, he comes back for Jeanie and you shake your head with a smile as you toss your stick in the bin. Fair play, at least Peter’s firm about hygiene, although you have a feeling you’ve installed that into him over the years. They come back in a minute later and the two of you tuck them in to their beds, silently reflecting on how this is easier now then when they were newborns. There had been a lot of sleepless nights back then, but it had been worth it in the end.

As you finally turn off their light and close their door, you barely have time to take a deep breath when Peter’s swept you up and run the pair of you back to your room. “There, see? Teeth cleaned, tucked in, you still think I’m a bad influence?”

“Yes!” you laugh, flinging your arms around his neck. “But you’re a good father.” You kiss him and the next thing you know you’re both lying on the bed together, getting cosy. “Hey, you remember that night I babysat, when you first asked me out?”

“Yeah, like it was yesterday,” Peter says, kissing your forehead.

“Did you...picture this happening?” You gesture, trying to put into words what you’re wondering. “I mean, did you think one day we’d be here, teaching, having a family..?”

“Honestly, when I first asked you out, I didn’t picture much past you possibly saying yes,” Peter admits. “Or no. I mean, I kind of thought you might say no. But, afterwards, yeah, I kind of hoped it would happen.”

“Well, I’m glad it did,” you smile, leaning up to kiss him again. “I love you so much, Peter Maximoff.”

“So you don’t regret saying yes?” Peter teases.

“Never.”

“Good, because I love you too, _(Y/N) _Maximoff.”

You snuggle up against him comfortably. “How much do you want to bet they’ll be in here with us first thing?”

“I’d be prepared to bet an entire batch of cupcakes on it.” You giggle. Peter pulls back and grins mischievously at you. “So...we’d probably better take care of the _really_ important stuff right now.”

You return his kiss as he pulls you closer, wondering if you might be able to do it at least twice before the two of you fall asleep. Just like your daughter, you decide, you love Saturdays. You love Saturdays very much indeed.


End file.
